


Late-Night Rescue

by Sermocinare



Series: The Apartment Complex (occasionally featuring Boris the Spider) [1]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Gen, Pre-Slash, featuring Boris the spider, they're not Avengers yet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 19:57:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3867877
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sermocinare/pseuds/Sermocinare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's a spider in Tony's bathtub, and only one man in the whole building who can deal with this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late-Night Rescue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [HeuteNachtIstMeinTag](https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeuteNachtIstMeinTag/gifts).



> Prompt taken from this list: http://matymurdok.tumblr.com/post/110467148603/here-have-some-aus-as-if-there-arent-enough-on

There was never anything good on TV these days. Sometimes, Steve asked himself why he even tried, but here he was, flipping through the channels for the third time and hoping something would come up. He should probably go to sleep, but then, sleep was where the nightmares were.

So actually, he wasn't that annoyed about someone knocking on his door at almost 11pm on a Wednesday night.

Turning off the TV, he walked to the door and opened it. He never bothered with the peephole. Probably should, but well. 

In front of him stood a man in pajamas with no shoes: “Hi.”

“Um, hello?” Steve didn't immediately recognize the guy, but fortunately, he got a little help there.

“Tony Stark. You know, number 32? Two doors down?”

Steve gave Tony a short once-over. Now that he had had his memory jogged, yes, that was the guy from 32. He'd probably not recognized him due to the fact that their previous contact had been limited to nods when they passed in the hallway, and then, Tony looked decidedly different. Less messy, for one. And not wearing a ratty MIT t-shirt and a pair of equally worn sweatpants. Not that Steve minded the new look. It was kind of... cute. Yes. Definitely cute.

“...yeah, now I remember.”

Tony was looking at him intently, and Steve raised his eyebrows. Time for the million dollar question: “So what made you knock on my door in the middle of the night?”

Tony took a deep breath: „There is a spider in my bathtub.“

Steve blinked in confusion: „Yes?“

„I know what you're thinking,“ Tony replied, holding up his hands in a placating gesture before running one of them through his already messy hair, „is this guy really afraid of a tiny spider? Well, you see, this isn't a tiny spider. I wouldn't have a problem with a tiny spider. Tiny spider? Boom, you're dead. But this one is huge. As in large enough that it could jump at my face and eat it.“ 

Steve was faced with a set of brown puppy-dog eyes looking up at him. Oh, damn. He was a sucker for brown eyes.

„And you want me to go in there and remove it?“ Here, Steve couldn't suppress a smirk: „Even though it might eat my face?“

„Yes. No! I mean, yes I would like you to help with removing that monster from the premises, but no I don't want you to get your face eaten. It's a nice face.“ Here, Tony's brain had probably caught up with his mouth, clamping it shut before something else in that direction could escape. „You're probably not in danger. I mean, look at you.“ Tony waved his hand vaguely: „You probably work out. And have reflexes like a hawk. So even if it attacks you, you'll have a much better chance of fighting it off.“

Steve sighed. On one hand, the situation was utterly ridiculous. Here was this guy he hadn't exchanged a single word with before tonight, standing in the hallway in his pjs asking if Steve could please remove a spider from his bathtub. At 11pm. On the other hand, this was the opportunity to get to know the guy – Tony – better. It wasn't that Steve was nosy, but he did like to know who his neighbors were. Call it old-fashioned, but that's how it was. 

“All right, then,” Steve said, grabbing his keys from the hook next to the door, “lead the way.”

Tony padded down the hallway and through the half-opened door to his apartment, wasting no time and leading Steve straight to the bathroom. 

Steve took a moment to take in the chaos that was the other man's living room. Tony seemed to be some kind of mechanical engineer. The coffee table and some of the couch were littered with bits and pieces of iron, most of which Steve had no idea what they actually were. There were also schematic drawings, but Steve had no time to really have a look, seeing how Tony was standing there with a hand on the doorknob to the bathroom.

“We'll have to get in quickly. I don't want it to escape to the living room.”

“Yeah, we'd never find it here,” Steve said, grinning. Tony gave him a look that reminded Steve of the pout of a five-year-old, so he went on: “Do you have a glass and a piece of paper? We need to trap it.”

“I was thinking more of killing it.”

“No way. I'm not killing it just for getting into your tub.” Steve smirked: “Maybe it just wanted to have a nice bubble bath.”

Tony rolled his eyes and fetched a very large mug and a piece of thin cardboard. Armed with these, both Steve and Tony quickly slid through the bathroom door, opening it no more than absolutely necessary.

And yes, Tony had been right. The spider really was quite big. And hairy. And looked very familiar.

“Boris! What are you doing here?”

“Wait a minute,” Tony say, looking aghast, “you know that hairy monstrosity?”

Steve had to laugh at Tony's expression: “Yes I do. That's Boris. He's Natasha's pet tarantula.” When Tony gave him a confused look, he went on: “Ms. Romanov? Redhead, lives across from me?”

“Oh, yes, I've seen her,” Tony said, nodding. With a sly smile, he added: “She's quite the sight.”

“If you're planning on hitting on her, forget it,” Steve replied, bending down to quickly cover Boris with the cup, “she's got a boyfriend.”

Now that Boris the spider was out of sight, Tony visibly relaxed, his formerly tense shoulders sinking. The he scowled: “I'll need to have words with her. How can she let that thing just roam around?”

“She doesn't.”

“And how would you know?” Tony said, raining an eyebrow at Steve.

“I've been over to her place a few times. Boris has his own little glass kingdom. If you want to blame anyone, blame me.” By now, Steve had slid the cardboard underneath the cup and straightened up, careful to keep the cardboard pressed to the rim of the mug. 

“Why should I blame you? You're my savior!”

“Well, she's away on business, and I'm looking after her place. I fed Boris a cricket a few days ago, and must have been careless when closing the door. A little crack is all it takes.” Steve smiled down at the cup: “She should have called you Houdini instead.”

“I'm surrounded by weirdos,” Tony mumbled. Then, he leaned his hip against the door frame, crossing his arms in front of his chest: “And here I was going to invite you to a cup of coffee for being my hero. Turns out you're the villain instead.”

Steve made a face: “Sorry.” Then, his grimace turned into a smile: “How about I invite you for coffee instead? Call it compensation for your trouble.”

Tony gave him a cheeky grin, brown eyes sparkling with something that made Steve's stomach flutter for a moment: “I'm not sure coffee is going to be enough, Steve.”

“Dinner, then?”

“Sounds good to me. Which kind?”

“Well, I know this amazing burger joint a few blocks down...” Steve said, raising an eyebrow questioningly.

“I love burgers. Let's do it.”

Steve grinned: “I'll pick you up tomorrow at eight, then.”

“It's a date,” Tony replied, and by the look in his eyes Steve was sure the man knew exactly what he was doing.

“Well, I better take Boris and put him back in his home,” Steve said, making his way to the door. “See you tomorrow, then.” He would have waved, but seeing how his hands were full and he didn't want to risk Boris getting away, he didn't.

Tony nodded: “See you.”

Walking down the hallway, a happy anticipation spreading through him, Steve smiled to himself, then whispered down at the cup: “Well done, Boris. But don't you do it again!”


End file.
